Graceful
by demitotal disaster
Summary: Storkules could have a longer period of life than any mortal and all the treasures of the world. But there was nothing he appreciated more than being Donald's best friend.


There was nothing Storkules could be more grateful for than being the best friend of the mighty and noble Donald Duck.

It was hard to explain. Since he was a young demigod, he had stood out in Ithaquack for his enormous kindness and naivety over his prominent muscles, supposedly inheriting mostly the character of Mother Alcmena, thus winning the hearts of their people.

It also helped, as he accidentally heard, that he did not inherit the flirtatious and promiscuous character of Father, but he was no one to judge his beloved family when it had been granted such a wonderful sister as Selene. That said he could also have more siblings, but the stork has never really known them as much as he wanted and could not by not living in Olympus since he had memory.

When Scrooge McDuck arrived in Ithaquack, however, accompanied by a couple of young mortals everything had changed. The female one, smallest by a few centimeters compared to Scrooge, had been excited at the idea of knowing gods, quickly obtaining the friendship and affection of his sister.

The male, taller one, on the other hand, was someone quite difficult to impress even with the many treasures that they carried with them—for someone who has traveled the world from an early age, as the fiery Della Duck babbled while inflating her chest with pride, thus earning Storkules's respect.

But it hadn't been until he saw him beat a herculean minotaur with his bare hands that he discovered Donald's true potential, thus earning an admiration just as immense as that beast.

How could someone so small be so strong and equally incredible? He didn't know it, and he felt really lucky to have met him.

* * *

"The night sky looks lovely, don't you think, best friend Donald?" He had asked him a night when the duck's family had settled on a vacation. Both were lying in the sand crossing their arms behind their heads, watching the stars and forming strange constellations while Della and Selene had vanished who-knows-where to do who-knows-what.

The teenager made a gesture of shrugging, crossing both legs and feeling his ankles sink slightly into the sand.

"I admit, it's lovely when the smog doesn't cover it. But I'll always prefer the ocean, there's no doubt about that." As he spoke, a smile formed on his face as he fiddled with the hem and buttons of his flannel shirt, inhaling the scent of sea salt.

Out of the corner of his eye, the demigod sensed how delighted his companion looked when he heard the ocean hitting the coast, putting aside his _devil-may-care_ _and mature_ idealism, and could not help smiling.

"Oh, noble Donald, how glorious that you are so passionate about what you like." Trying not to raise his voice so as not to interrupt the quiet atmosphere that had formed and attract Father's attention, the imposing Storkules wrapped the duck's body in a bonebreaker hug, snuggling against him in the sand.

Staying faithfully quiet when Donald shivered. Fortunately for him, Storkules could not see his cheeks flushed over the plumage.

Discreetly, Donald snuggled into the demigod's arms, watching from that position the stars next to his partner.

* * *

However, what the stork most appreciated now that he lived with the sailor after so many years of separation, were the nights when he could accompany him.

It was no secret that his friend's dream was delicate, especially when there was something that bothered him. And having someone to let off steam with was perhaps the greatest release he could have suffered.

"Surely it doesn't bother you, Storkules?" He murmured one night as he sat on the edge of the pool, sinking his feet in the water and keeping quiet when he attached him to his body. He smelled to ashes after having confronted Zeus one more time, but the herculean bird could not care less while gently preening his hair feathers.

If he was wiggling his tail, none had the prudence to mention it in honor of Donald's sailor pride.

"Bother me? But best friend Donald, you can never bother me. Your strong attitude is what makes you _you_, and I admire you just the way you are" without stopping to hug the duck, he pointed a finger proudly at the sky.

True to his word, he had always heard him in his sorrows, though it was difficult to make him not break anything in the process. And much harder it was to keep calm when he broke into tears, but it had always helped him wake up calmer the next morning.

And even if it wasn't a secret, Storkules' favorite moments were when, after letting off steam, Donald fell asleep into his arms, because not only did he look more relaxed and better with himself, but he was also entrusting him with the great task of watching and caring his rest.

During those nights, while accommodating him in his hammock and tucking him, it was when the demigod was proud to have met a mortal as fantastic as Donald Duck.

And really attractive as well, but he would say that openly when he felt he was ready.


End file.
